


there's no plan

by idontknowhowtoread (heatherpotts)



Category: Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club
Genre: M/M, Pokemon AU, also this was my first real time writing shane and jirard, but this was fun!! shout to 2 sam, but title from hozier.. thank you sir, but very very vague.., i did not have a name in mind for this oh god oh fuck, so hoo boy, very vague mention of. bad home life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:18:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatherpotts/pseuds/idontknowhowtoread
Summary: "Do you… need a place to stay, or something?"“... You really don’t need to,” Shane replied, focusing only on the road ahead of him.
Relationships: Shane Gill/Jirard Khalil
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	there's no plan

**Author's Note:**

> wah okay, so this was a secret santa gift, they requested anything having to do with jirard, shane, or just anything pokemon in general, so I wrote this and it was a lot of fun!! hee hoo!!
> 
> (also just a mini update bc I like making them in fics like this, im still working on bts and ae and all that stuff, im just gonna be busy with class again and I get sidetracked with other projects pretty easily so rip but. yeah!! lets get it!!)

Shane was pretty sure this was the farthest he had _ever_ been from home before; and maybe that was for good reason.

He sighed, taking a seat in the middle of the path, his back against a fencepost. He took off his backpack, laying it beside him. When he looked to his right, he could still see the daunting figure of Mount Aborella; of course, he wouldn’t possibly be able to really escape it for some time. Hell, it had already been literal _days,_ travelling on foot and looking over his shoulder every two seconds to make sure nobody saw him, to make it to this point.

But he had _actually_ made it down. He was exhausted, utterly filthy and dirt stained, already almost out of food and water- he really should have packed more than seven granola bars and two bottles- and entirely _not built_ for all this continuous exertion; but he had made it.

He made it out- not far out by any means, and certainly not yet safe, but he’d gotten away. Further away than he had ever been before.

And that made him oddly happy. Almost enough to want to smile.

Almost.

He shifted to wrestle off his jacket, having turned from green to brown with mud, still wet from a puddle in the hiding spot he had thrown himself into the other night, draping it over the fence. It was much warmer down here, which Shane knew shouldn’t surprise him, but that combined with just how sweaty and gross he felt due to the _everything_ , he was a little bit miserable.

Still, he knew he’d always pick this over staying home with _them._ He’d pick anything over that.

He took a moment to evaluate himself somewhat; sweaty and gross, as expected. His shirt was surprisingly unscathed, obviously still _very_ sweat stained, but not much of the mud got to it, his jacket taking all the damage instead. The illustration of Lord Helix remained pure and sacred, and simply looking at it brought the slightest twitch to the corner of his lips. It must have been watching over Shane, or at least over its own likeness.

The same couldn’t be said about his jeans, though. He was definitely going to need new pants, whenever he got the chance to get these off. _If_ he could even get them off, assuming they hadn’t already fused to his skin. His boots were ruined too, _sloshing_ with every step he took, but he doubted he’d be able to buy new ones that were any good as well as new pants. He only had something like ₱500, and he was hoping he wouldn’t have to resort to stealing just yet.

At least his backpack was mostly alright. Dirtied up, sure, but intact. He dragged it closer to him, checking around him again to make sure there wasn’t anyone coming, and pulled out his sixth granola bar.

Oh, and a Pokéball.

He tossed it in front of him absentmindedly, allowing his Absol, Athena, to come out for however long he’d allow himself to rest here, however long it would be safe for them. However long it would take him to open the wrapper for his granola bar, because it just would _not_ cooperate for the longest time.

Athena didn’t entirely appreciate being neglected in favor of a granola bar, but she managed; trotting around and examining the wide dirt path, grumbling at the mud now staining her paws, glaring at Shane whenever she was just within Shane’s field of view.

After Shane had taken his first few bites, fishing the last couple Razz berries out of his bag for Athena as well, she cried, smacking her paw on the ground to draw attention to Shane’s right.

Shane glanced over, the sight of the mountain sending another anxious chill through him, then focusing on Athena. He took her perpetually apathetic but now slightly agitated expression to mean _what the hell, seriously?_ And he gave her the tiniest smirk that could still qualify as a smirk.

“Yeah. That’s the start of Aborella,” Shane muttered, taking another bite in between sentences. “... We made it.”

Athena didn’t react right away, continuing to stare at the base of the mountain. But eventually, she shook like a dog, making a noise almost reminiscent of _purring._ Shane took that to mean _hell yeah._

She then trotted back over, shoved her face into Shane’s hand holding the pile of Razz berries, and seemingly for no reason other than to bother him, wiped her front paws on Shane’s jeans before wandering off again to see if there was anything else to see.

That was the first time Shane had felt _safe_ with Athena out of her Pokéball, he later realized. And that was when he came to realize, regardless of how sweaty and gross he got, regardless of how much Athena judged him for it, he’d pick this over where they had started any day of the week. Even if he was a little bit miserable, he was already a lot happier; and he hoped, at least, that he could get used to this.

\---

Well, Shane knew it was inevitable that he’d have to run into some people _eventually._ He was far enough away for it to be _safe-ish_ by that point, but he still wasn’t happy about risking it. He wasn’t happy about the obligation of social interaction in general.

Further along the dirt path, following the fence posts, he started noticing some Pokémon living on the other side. The field was spacious, grassy and increasingly muddy as he continued along, which was fitting; Mudbrays ran back and forth, frolicking and chasing each other, braying and rolling around. Shane was willing to bet there were some Mudsdale parents living nearby; must have been the property of a breeder.

They were pretty adorable; Shane would give them that. But Shane couldn’t even imagine all the trouble taking care of them would bring; just from the way they chased each other and pushed each other down, crying like it was the end of the world, they seemed pretty mischievous as well.

And as he continued further down, he found his assumption was correct; two Mudsdales chaperoned a group of particularly rambunctious Mudbrays, with… questionable success, at least from the distance Shane was seeing from. Their stable came into view, and a farmhouse, and a third Mudsdale, being ridden by a person.

… Shane was really hoping that person just wouldn't see him, or would just ignore him in favor of focusing on not trampling any Mudbray kids, but he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised.

The rider trotted up to him, matching Shane's pace on the other side of the fence, completely oblivious to Shane's attempt at walking faster in order to escape him.

"Heya, friend!"

Shane winced at his tone, cheery and bold and much more… _yeehaw-_ ish than Shane was used to. He assumed that the rider was in charge here, given that nobody else seemed to be around, and he dressed like a stereotypical rancher; with overalls dyed brown at the bottom, and a straw hat that looked about ready to fall apart, seeming to have been repeatedly stolen and chewed up by a certain mysterious Pokémon culprit.

But interestingly enough, if the rider really was the one in charge around here, not serving under someone else, he was _really young_ to be in that position. Or, at least, he looked young. He looked to be around Shane's age, probably fresh out of high school, from the somewhat loose way he rode the Mudsdale, to… well, just how his face looked. Even despite the impressive black beard he had going on, Shane was willing to bet he was just a kid. Like himself.

"... Hello," Shane reluctantly replied.

"I, uh… I don't think I've seen you around here before. You new in town?"

"Just passing through."

The rider pressed his lips together, visibly a bit nervous. About what, exactly, Shane wasn't sure.

"Just passing through, huh… Well, my name's Jirard, I… run this place, pretty much. Welcome to Pridith Farm!"

That confirmed Shane's suspicions that this kid, _Jirard,_ was the one in charge around here. Which was a little weird, maybe, but Shane didn't feel like questioning it.

"... Shane," he muttered back, his way of thanking Jirard for the warm welcome. "... You got some cute Mudbrays."

Jirard's face lit up at that, brown eyes shining like crystals, chuckling low in his throat.

"Oh yes, they're my babies," Jirard sighed, stroking the mane of the Mudsdale he was riding, fawning over the mere mention. "They're little devils sometimes, but they're so adorable."

After a pause of walking and clopping in silence, Jirard continued. "Do you… need a place to stay, or something?"

It was clear that Jirard had noticed, just how _bad_ of a shape Shane was in. Filthy and exhausted, soon to be starving, fated to forever be running away without repose. Shane couldn’t be sure exactly what he looked like, it wasn’t like he had been able to check in a mirror recently, but he was sure; like _hell._

“... You really don’t need to,” Shane replied, focusing only on the road ahead of him.

“I- No, no, please, I- Even if just for a moment, you’re welcome to stop by, I don’t typically have people around, so- And, it seems like you- uh… Could use it, no offense.”

“None taken,” Shane hummed, finding the slightest bit of enjoyment in the way Jirard got all ruffled over that simple thing. “But you _really_ don’t need to. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you _sure?_ I- Where are you even going?” Jirard asked, the frustration starting to seep into his voice, which made Shane _especially_ want to get away. But Jirard’s motivations were clearly _very_ different from the frustrations Shane had been subjected to in the past, if not the polar opposite, and… Shane didn’t really understand it.

“... I’m going. Don’t know where, exactly, but... away.”

Shane made the mistake of glancing to his left, and found all of the frustration Jirard may have harbored completely wiped clean, replaced with an overbearing sense of sympathy that Shane wasn’t used to in the slightest. There was a look in Jirard’s eyes that Shane had seldom seen before, one of _warmth;_ he’d liken it to the feeling of being in the middle of a forest, staring up at the trees and the beams of sunlight filtering in through the leaves, that sense of safety, _protection._

And something about it made Shane shut down completely.

“... Then, stay. Please. If you’re not going anywhere in particular, and you need a place to stay for a while, and- and you just… need to rest and recover from whatever, I could even set you up with a Mudsdale if you really wanted-” Jirard stammered, growing flustered again and stumbling over his words, but Shane knew exactly what he was going to say before he even began. That comforting, magnetic kind of warmth, like a fireplace, that genuine desire to _help._ That _sympathy_ that Shane had no idea how to process, no idea how to turn down.

And much to Shane’s dismay, Jirard had gotten the best of him, just like that. All Shane could do was sigh, whisper _“fine”_ quiet enough to not be heard, purposefully _avoid_ Jirard’s face just in case he _had_ heard, and follow Jirard inside.

\---

After taking a very well needed shower, declining Jirard’s proposal to get help from some guy he knew with a Sharpedo, apparently Shane passed out. Which, in the sudden onset of morning, the smell of breakfast emanating through the cozy farmhouse, and the possibility that he had been _terribly_ rude, was very worrying.

He wished he could be happier that he was so comfortable, surrounded by blankets that he couldn’t remember if he had actually gone to sleep with, or if they were some recent addition; that he was clean and dry, and not so _exhausted,_ and seemingly _safe_ for once.

But there was only so much that he could allow himself.

He kicked off the many covers, taking quite a bit of effort; beginning to doubt even more from their weight alone that he hadn’t grabbed them himself, and rolled as gracefully as he could off the couch. A couch that was genuinely, _really_ comfortable for some reason. Which may have been somewhat due to the fact that Shane had been sleeping on the ground the past few days, but still, he really appreciated the change of pace.

… But that appreciation turned to guilt so quickly that it knocked the breath out of Shane, nearly swept him off his feet. It had been a while since he’d had so much _good_ around to feel bad about.

He shook off the thought, sighing and reapplying his stoicism.

The farmhouse was small; consisting of the living room Shane had slept in, a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and that was pretty much it. While maybe a bit cluttered, it was obvious there was a lot of love put into the decor; from the hand knit blankets and pillowcases to the art lining the walls, all seeming to be gifts or things Jirard had made himself. Shane tried not to look at the art for too long; it made… _something_ flare up in his chest, painful and unpleasant, and it wasn’t what he needed at that moment.

The entire aura of comfort in Jirard’s home, this entirely new definition of _home,_ was rather novel to Shane. And he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

He ran a hand through his hair, not really doing... anything, due to how short it was, but it was a slight comfort. Those _thoughts_ were getting harder to shake off by the day, and he was not a fan of that.

In an attempt at escape, he forced himself into the kitchen.

The scent was _delicious,_ although Shane was also willing to attribute that to the fact that he had eaten nothing but granola bars for the past few days as well. But it was practically _irresistible_ by the time Shane stepped foot into the kitchen, sizzling meat and the distinctive smell of curry filling the air. And there Jirard was in the center, the ringmaster of this whole operation; the host who was being _entirely_ too kind.

Jirard seemed to think this was an occasion casual enough to remain in his pajamas, which Shane thought was… fine, he supposed. So was Shane, for that matter, and not even his _own_ pajamas, but it was still a thought that was difficult to shake. He definitely appreciated Jirard’s Snorlax slippers, though.

Jirard glanced over his shoulder, spotting Shane _,_ and smiled brightly enough to make Shane groggy all over again.

“Oh, hey! Good morning,” Jirard chirped, apparently having just finished, plating the curry despite his focus being mostly on Shane. “Perfect timing, dude. You want breakfast?”

“I- Uh…” Shane stammered, internally cursing Jirard for giving him the option, and cursing himself for feeling so _awful_ about accepting what he knew he didn’t deserve. “You really don’t have to-”

“Shane, buddy, c’mon. I mean, one, breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Jirard started, carrying the two plates of curry to the table in the living room, shooting Shane a glance communicating _come along._ Shane did not get the message, forcing Jirard to come back out.

“ _Two,_ I always make pretty huge portions anyway, I’m still not really used to cooking for one, so, y’know. At least help me out here,” Jirard continued, tugging gently on Shane’s arm, which was both frightening and awe inducing, in the sheer _gentleness_ of the touch. Shane almost wanted to flinch, but it was soft and slow, and not frightening in the traditional sense, but just… nice. Shane wasn’t used to nice.

Nice enough to shut Shane down again, allowing Jirard to drag him over to the table and force him into a chair. “Three, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t, honestly. And four, it’s already done, so I believe it would be rude to refuse your host’s cooking. That’s a rule, I think?” Jirard concluded, and although ending it by questioning his own final point wasn’t the most convincing thing he could have done, Shane was sold. He couldn’t have refused if he wanted to, and… there was still a sizeable part of himself that did.

“... Thank you,” Shane eventually forced out, and that was all he could bring himself to coherently say. As the effect of Jirard’s… _whatever_ he had done, magic or something for all Shane knew wore off, the equally powerful magic of the curry returned. Shane was helpless.

“Of course,” Jirard replied, grinning just as Shane knew he would. “Oh, forgot silverware-”

And Shane almost smiled again as Jirard hurried back into the kitchen. Almost _laughed,_ and the reason why terrified him. It seemed both feasible and simple to understand, yet perpetually out of Shane’s reach, and Shane was _really_ not a fan of that feeling. Like shame, but colder, yet burning hot at the same time. He felt like thinking about it for too long would rip him to shreds.

So, he pushed it down. When Jirard returned, he quietly and graciously accepted the silverware, and gorged himself. Which was helpful in both distracting himself and in shutting the fuck up, at the very least.

And Jirard made some _killer_ sausage curry, that was for sure.

“So, um…” Jirard broke the silence after a good five minutes, when Shane was already three quarters done. “It’s kinda hard to make small talk over breakfast, I guess, but… If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from…?”

Jirard ended the phrase like he was questioning himself again, which was odd. A little endearing, honestly. It made Shane a little less afraid of the question itself. He took a moment to breathe, then swallowed another bite of his sausage.

“... Up on Aborella,” Shane put simply, managing to fit a lifetime of anxieties into those three simple words. And that was all he allowed himself to say, taking another bite of curry.

“... Oh,” Jirard weakly replied, staring at the table. He took a moment to process the context of that, every second of it showing on Jirard’s face, even glancing over his shoulder as if he expected to see the outline of Aborella through the wall. “Did… uh… nevermind.”

And just like that, Jirard went back to eating his breakfast in silence.

Shane knew that Jirard knew. From the little Shane knew about him, he knew Jirard was clever; and Shane had a feeling what he stopped himself from saying went something like, _did you really make it all the way down by yourself?_

Which, yes. He knew Jirard knew.

Shane often preferred silence, but that had made the situation just _so_ uncomfortable. He couldn’t even focus on his breakfast like _this._ And so, Shane spoke up, which he knew he’d probably regret.

“May I ask something too?”

“Oh, of course!” Jirard responded, perking back up, although the nervousness in his voice rang out clearer than ever. “Go right ahead.”

“... Alright, um…” Shane cleared his throat, not having thought through exactly what he was going to say. “How did you… come to run this place? You seem pretty… young, for it.”

Jirard’s face split into a smile, another _genuine_ one, free of any awkwardness or fear. It made Shane feel like there were Caterpies twisting around in his stomach.

“I- Yeah! Most people don’t notice, that I… yeah. I guess the beard usually throws people off, but yeah. I am technically too young for this,” Jirard explained, stroking his beard.

“It is a real beard, right?”

“Yep! It’s a gift,” Jirard sighed, showing a fondness for his beard like that of an old friend. Shane didn’t know how to feel about that. “But yeah, uh… This wasn’t always my place, of course, I’ve been living here for… two years? Closer to three now, I believe. But before me, this pair of old folks ran the farm, but they passed away a while ago and didn’t leave anyone to take care of the kids, so… I just kinda waltzed on in.”

It took a moment to process that by _kids,_ Jirard meant the Pokémon. Shane wasn’t sure if that was actually… _legal,_ either, but it seemed… reasonable enough, he supposed. He didn’t bother questioning Jirard much further than that, and he looked down to see his plate almost completely clean.

“Well, uh… interesting,” Shane mumbled, finishing off what little remained. “Uh- Thank you very much for the breakfast, it was delicious.”

“Oh, no problem! Glad you liked it,” Jirard grinned, quickly getting up and grabbing Shane’s plate before Shane could take it anywhere himself.

“Oh- Uh, thank you,” Shane murmured as Jirard took his plate, being forced back into his chair by obligation. For the brief moment Shane was alone as Jirard put the dishes away, there was a grim reminder scrawled in red all along the walls. That he couldn’t stay here, no matter how welcoming and comforting this place was. That he would be on the road again before he knew it, _soon,_ maybe even _today._ Probably today. He knew he _really_ shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

“Um, Jirard?” Shane asked meekly as Jirard came back into the room, spinning on his heel and humming to confirm he was listening. “Do you have any… berries, by chance?”

“Oh, of course! I keep tons stocked for the kids, Orans and Chestos mostly, I-” Jirard began, but cut himself off suddenly, the smile dropping off his face. “Oh my gosh, I should have asked sooner. Do you have a Pokémon?”

“Uh, y-”

“I’m so sorry,” Jirard yelped, really seeming to exaggerate his sorrow, but somehow… Shane knew he wasn’t. Shane did not care nearly as much as he did. “Oh, it’s been in its Pokéball all night, I really should-”

“I’m sure she’s fine.”

“I’ll get you those berries, I really should have asked before! You can get her out right now.”

“I- Well-”

“Does she prefer any specific berry?” Jirard called out after ducking back into the kitchen, ignoring Shane’s mild protests.

“Uh, well- Razz berries I guess, but she’ll probably eat anything, really.”

And as Jirard took his time sorting through whatever berries he had, Shane figured he might as well let Athena out. Which he wasn’t exactly… excited about.

He had no idea how Jirard was going to respond. Absols and their bad luck were a legend told time and time again up on Aborella, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the story had made it down to Jirard as well. And if Jirard knew, Shane wouldn’t be shocked if he kicked him out entirely. Which he wouldn’t really mind, such a sudden exile would make leaving somewhat easier, and he knew it was inevitable that he’d have to get going eventually.

… He hated the thought of scaring Jirard, though. And if Jirard didn’t know, if he had no idea what an Absol was, would Shane have to explain it to him? All the legends, all the stories, all the _victims._ Would Jirard believe him?

… What if Athena did _something_ to him? Shane had never deduced the concrete parameters of how bad an Absol’s bad luck could be, but he still didn’t want to take the risk. Even if he was safe from Athena because of their bond, or even if he _wasn’t,_ he just didn’t want to deal with this. He didn’t want to feel worse.

But he didn’t have much of a choice, he supposed. It was easier this way, and maybe, just _maybe,_ things would be fine.

He sighed, padding back towards the couch where his backpack was conveniently kept right next to him, and dug out the Pokéball. With a silent prayer, he tossed the Pokéball to the side, letting out Athena. He sat down with his back against the couch to be closer to her as she looked around the room, pawing at the strange carpet and yipping at the new environment.

“Alright, so I didn’t have as many Razz berries left as I thought I did, so there’s some Orans mixed in here, but-” Jirard rambled, reentering the room and suddenly going silent when he saw Athena.

And Shane thought, _well, it’s been a good run._

Jirard simply stared for a moment, processing the new Pokémon that was suddenly in his house, and Shane was ready for all the screaming and panicking and forcing Shane out back on the road that he knew _had_ to be coming.

But once the moment passed, Jirard… didn’t do any of that.

The blank state of shock on his face turned to sheer glee, clasping his hands together and just _melting_ over the sight of Athena. His smile seemed even wider than the ones Shane had witnessed before, eyes almost _watery,_ and with a long, drawn out _“awwwwww!!!”_ Jirard was on the ground next to Shane.

“Oh my _goooosh,_ she is just _adorable!”_ Jirard fawned, slowly laying a hand on Athena’s head and petting her, eventually getting lost in stroking her mane. And it was clear that Athena _loved_ the attention too, which was strange, because she seemed to hate it whenever Shane did it. “She’s an Absol, right? I think that’s the name?”

“Uh, yeah. You, uh… familiar?” Shane asked, gingerly taking the bag of berries from next to Jirard.

“Yeah, think I’ve seen one or two before. Such a cool Pokémon,” Jirard recalled, sighing dreamily as he scratched Athena’s head. Shane wasn’t sure what to make of that information, considering Jirard’s apparent background as a humble farmer and Shane’s knowledge of how people _usually_ reacted to Absols. “Does she have a nickname?”

“Oh, uh… Athena.”

“Athena,” Jirard repeated. “ _Love_ that.”

After another couple passing moments of petting, leaving Shane speechless and confused, Jirard seemed to remember something, suddenly pulling away.

“Oh- You go and feed her, and since she’s so sweet, I got something I think she’ll like,” Jirard explained, waving to Athena despite the fact that he was supposedly going to be right back, and hurried off towards his bedroom before Shane could say anything.

He picked a couple Oran berries out of the bag, holding them in his palm and letting Athena sniff at them experimentally before snatching one off, but was interrupted when he heard… _whistling,_ from the direction of Jirard’s bedroom. And clapping, making a slow rhythm, and…

Shane felt a strange warmth unfurl in his chest, like that melting look Jirard gave Athena translated into a feeling. And it was almost _painful._ He hadn’t felt anything like it for the longest time, and it was almost adjacent to _guilt,_ only softer.

Trailing at Jirard’s heels was a parade of Skittys, mewing almost in time with Jirard’s claps. _Almost,_ not really, but they were trying. They would yelp when one would smack the other with its tail or when another would trip over its own paws, and it was just so _agonizingly_ adorable that Shane held a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling too much. Jirard led the parade over to him and Athena, and Athena cried back when she saw them, laying down so that they could better reach her and nudging them with her paws.

“... Jesus Christ,” Shane choked out after a long moment of internally screaming and failed attempts at regaining his composure.

“I know, right?” Jirard replied, chuckling softly. “They’re my _other_ kids.”

“Yeah, I was gonna say, those are some strange looking Mudbrays.”

Jirard laughed at that, which sent another fire raging in Shane’s chest, but it was just shocking enough to be sobering. He _needed_ to get it together. _Fuck._

“I know, I know. They were actually living way back in the stables when I first came and took over, in the saddest little corner, so I brought them inside and… here they are! The one crawling on Athena is Sakura, she’s the adventurous one, and the one nudging at Athena’s paw is Lily, she’s the reason I can’t have any nice vases or anything. And the one watching Athena’s tail is Cherry, she’s usually a little more shy, but I guess she’s doing alright now, and the two wrestling are Blossom and Bluebell.”

Shane found himself immediately just as head-over-heels for the babies as Jirard. The two wrestling, apparently Blossom and Bluebell, could barely even kick at each other because their legs were so short, all they were doing was writhing around on the floor and occasionally rolling on top of one another. Shane felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

“... They’re so cute,” Shane choked out again, substantially more strangled than the last time he was struggling to speak, his hands clenched into fists and used to support his weight.

“I know. ‘S what gets me going every day when I wake up,” Jirard murmured, keeping his eyes on the Pokémon, but his focus on Shane. “And they’re getting along just fine, aren’t they?”

“... Yep. Sure are,” Shane agreed, but at that moment he realized that the last time he had Athena out in the presence of another Pokémon, a Psyduck that had just been waddling around, she made it faint in one shot, without Shane even _implying_ that he wanted her to.

And so, he really should have been a lot more nervous about this, but somehow, he wasn’t. He didn’t know what it was about this place, about Jirard and his Skittys, that had Athena acting so… _love-y._ He knew, at least to some extent, why he was so willing to keep his guard down here, because it was comfortable and Jirard was extremely kind, but he wasn’t at all expecting that feeling to extend to Athena. He _semi-trusted_ Athena, which made the switch a little less jarring and terrifying, but he just… didn’t get it. He’d try to understand, wait for that _one, two, three, click,_ but it always escaped him.

“... Y’know, I was wondering, do you happen to have a Pokédex?” Jirard asked, coming off another bout of giggling.

“No, I… had a friend who did, but he basically never let me touch it,” Shane replied, a slight sting coming with the memory of earlier days. “... I’ve seen Skittys before, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I mean… Well, that’s also good to know, but I happen to have a friend who does, and does actually let me touch it, so I thought you might be interested in the entry it’s got for Absols,” Jirard explained, gesturing vaguely to Athena, still happily communing with the Skittys. “... From the way you were looking at her, it seems like that might be… I don’t know. Something you’d want to know.”

Oh. Jirard _did_ know.

And he knew _more_ than Shane.

How much had Shane been letting on about his apprehension? He couldn't remember. He thought he was being calm, but Jirard must have noticed that he was braced for the worst. Jirard was _too damn clever_ to just be a humble farmer.

Pulling himself out of a blank stare, Shane focused back on Athena. The one crawling on Athena, _Sakura, was it?_ Had made it all the way up to Athena’s mane and seemed to be half asleep, and Lily, the rambunctious, pawed at Athena’s face. The others took their turns nudging Athena and falling over, and Shane felt like he was staring at a book in a language he didn’t recognize. Like there was meaning there, that he just couldn’t grasp.

But that if he tried, if he got some help, maybe he could.

“... I think I would.”

\---

Shane learned that day, Mudsdales are _ridiculously_ fast. Shane considered it a miracle that he was still alive by the time they made it into town.

Further into the town, his surroundings got much more _urban,_ plenty of neon lights and vibrant street art. Shane didn’t have much time to really appreciate it, going at _what, a bajillion_ miles per hour, but it was really nice. Really, _really_ nice. Aborella might as well have existed in a permanent state of greyscale.

And their destination, what might have been the very center of the town, was a futuristic black and yellow building, littered with lightning bolts and a spinning golden Pokéball on top of the roof. It was a gym…? He was pretty sure it was a gym.

He wasn’t thinking particularly clearly when Jirard helped him down and dragged him inside, his head still spinning from the speed they were racing at. He still didn’t know what to expect, so he was just… kind of absent.

Inside, the walls were still black, but the floor was grassy and moist, the humidity being like that of an oncoming thunderstorm. It was like a neon terrarium, plants sparking with electricity and lit up footpaths guarded by trainers, leading up to the gym leader. Those footpaths seemed to be the only way up, as the two ways up were divided by a huge pit.

It was awesome, Shane was willing to admit. An Electric type gym, it had to be. He really wanted to draw a _ton_ of this stuff, but he still wasn’t sure where they were even going. If it was up, he wasn’t exactly prepared for battling, he didn’t even bring Athena _with,_ and he still didn’t know who this friend of Jirard’s even _was._

Jirard stepped up to the pit, and a tone rang out, a lightning bolt shaped bridge shooting out across the pit.

_… Oh._

Jirard looked back at Shane, grinning and extending a hand for Shane to take.

“C’mon.”

Unsure of what else to do, and not at all excited about falling to his death, Shane took it.

The presumed gym leader noticed them coming up once they were about halfway across, waving frantically and yelling out.

“Oh, dudeeee! What’s up Jirard?”

“Hey Jimmy!” Jirard called back, and gave Shane’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Jimmy, so it would seem was his name, was solidified as the gym leader once Shane laid eyes on him. _Oh, ha ha, Gym-y. Hilarious._ But Jimmy wore a fancy looking black and yellow jacket, with lightning bolt insignias _all over_ his entire outfit, staticky hair and a wild, childlike look in his eyes. Next to him was a sleepy looking Luxray, Shane believed was the name? Or a Luxio…? Blue electric kitty Pokémon, that was all Shane really knew.

Jimmy also seemed… _way_ younger than the both of them, _probably fourteen or fifteen…? Who let this child be a gym leader,_ Shane wanted to ask, but he wasn’t really planning on getting electrocuted that day.

Jirard and Jimmy fist bumped, Jirard pulling him into a one-armed hug. And it occurred to Shane that if Jimmy was an Electric type specialist, and Jirard’s Mudsdales were Ground type…

When they got back, Shane would have to check if Jirard had a gym badge hanging around on the shelves anywhere. Because he would not be surprised in the slightest if Jirard had come here, _destroyed_ Jimmy in battle, and thus blossomed their friendship. That was kind of beautiful, actually.

“So, what, you here for round… like, eight, now? I only have so many badges, my dude,” Jimmy bantered, confirming Shane’s suspicion.

“Oh no, not today,” Jirard chuckled, patting Jimmy on the shoulder. “I brought my friend with me, his name is Shane, since he’s just passing through town.”

“Oh, right,” Jimmy muttered, as if just remembering Shane was standing there. “Hi! I’m Gym leader Whetzel. Welcome to Kuwen!”

Was that what this town was called? Shane genuinely didn’t know.

“Uh… thank you,” Shane muttered, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, and we were wondering if we could borrow your Dex for a minute? He has an Absol and I’d like to show him the entry,” Jirard explained, mumbling something at the end that Shane couldn’t quite make out, and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. Jimmy nodded, that same _sympathy_ written all over his face, and he dashed back over to his backpack tucked behind a hologram-esque tree. Shane wondered if it was actually solid, or just light. Solid, but semi-transparent maybe, since Jimmy kept his backpack behind it?

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Absol. Three five nine, the Disaster Pokémon!” Jimmy read, giving them some jazz hands that were entirely ineffective. Jirard came up close to Shane again, smiling softly.

“Long ago, superstitions were spread about it, saying it brought disaster. This fed a hatred of it, and it was driven deep into the mountains,” Jimmy continued, putting a bit more emphasis on the word _superstitions._ “But I believe the case is actually that it actually _warns_ people of oncoming danger, right Jirard?”

“Right,” Jirard confirmed, gently nudging Shane. “They’re quite the fascinating Pokémon.”

Shane knew the words made sense in the structure of their sentences, but he couldn’t quite grasp the meaning. He knew, on some level that what _they_ said about Athena, wasn’t true, wasn’t _fair,_ but…

What they said about him in turn, wasn’t that true?

Shane wasn’t sure that he believed it was really that simple, a superstition and nothing more, as Absols _did_ indeed have some power, but…

Shane looked down and his hands were shaking. All he felt was numbness, vague confusion and disorientation, but his body clearly didn’t agree. Or maybe it was his mind that was disagreeing. He didn’t know. He felt like he was falling.

Jirard nudged him again, reminding him that he was still in his realm, and slowly, gently wrapped a hand around Shane’s. And Shane clutched it like a life vest in an endless sea of pitch black, lies and superstitions, things that Shane knew he couldn’t fully process.

At least not at the moment.

But he did understand, _kind of,_ what Jimmy was reading, what Jirard was trying to tell him. That Absols weren’t inherently harbingers of disaster, that _Athena_ wasn’t bad luck or an inherently frightening Pokémon to be around. That whatever happened to Shane on Aborella, which Shane couldn’t even begin to open up about at that point, but Jirard was smart enough to know most likely had to do with Athena; it wasn’t his fault.

Jirard said that with his every gesture; with his fingers entwined with Shane’s, with his smile, with the shine in his eyes brighter than a thousand lightning bolts. It wasn’t his fault. He was okay.

And while Shane knew he wouldn’t fully process that concept for another few _weeks,_ most likely, he didn’t feel quite so scared. He wanted to go back to Jirard’s and lay down with Athena and the Skittys, and feel not so _guilty,_ for once. There was a fire in his chest, an electric current through his veins, and for the first time, he allowed himself to keep it.

Meeting Jirard’s eyes, Shane smiled. It kind of hurt his face, but it was worth it for the way Jirard’s face absolutely _lit up_ in turn.

“... So was that… All y’all needed?” Jimmy asked, breaking through their little moment, but Jirard laughed, the sound roaring like thunder in Shane’s ears.

“Yep,” Jirard replied, dragging Shane by the hand back to the bridge, saluting Jimmy with two fingers. “Thank you, Jimbly!”

“Yeah, whatever dude.”

\---

“So… What now?” Jirard asked, sitting opposite from Shane’s spot on the couch, petting Cherry as she stretched out on Jirard’s lap. “Are you gonna… go home?”

The mere thought of going home still stung; he was sure if Athena was still awake, she and Shane would share the same sentiment. Being, _fuck no._

“... There was more to it than just… bad luck, superstitious stuff,” Shane murmured, staring at the ceiling.

“Oh. I’m… sorry, then,” Jirard replied, offering Shane a smile he caught just out of the corner of his eye, one that easily swept away any sense of lingering resentment Shane might have had. “But you can stay here, for however long you need. You’re always welcome. And if you do keep going, I’m very negotiable with my Mudsdales-”

“I’d definitely need the slowest one you have,” Shane chuckled, wagging a finger at Sakura as she jumped up onto the couch. “But, I… don’t know yet. I’ll think about it.”

And that alone was enough. That was all they needed.

_One, two, three, click. Finally._

**Author's Note:**

> I think about shane and his absol a lot wahh,, its what he deserves


End file.
